Christmas
by jkkitty1
Summary: A three stories from LJ MFU Section 7 PicFic Challanges for the month of december.
1. Christmas Past 1943

The 12-year-old was dressed in a tuxedo, brown hair perfectly in place. As an ambassador's grandson, nothing less would be acceptable. The party was in full swing, but for the only young man there, it was boring. He had done his duty and spoke to all the guest before his escape to the streets of Washington DC.

He roamed the avenues leading from the consulate until he came to the poorer part of town. His grandfather would be extremely angry if he knew that he was here, but the happy voices and singing pulled him to a house.

Peeking in the window while hiding behind a bush, he saw a family sitting around a kitchen table.

He watched as a small amount of the food was given to each member of the family. He had eaten almost as much food as they were serving for his own supper. Yet these people were happy with what they had and were acting as if it was a feast. It seemed unfair that only a few miles from here food was being wasted while this family had so little.

He listened as they laughed and giggled over supper. He could hear them reliving the joys of the day.

The talk at his grandfather's table had been about war and fighting. No one laughed or joked there.

Although getting cold, he continued to watch as after supper, the whole family began playing games. They took turned suggesting one and everybody joined in; no one was excluded.

After he had finished supper, the adults had broken into group discussing anything but the holiday. No one had invited him to join his or her group.

He watched as the family before him decorated the tree together, once again laughing. Everyone helped from the youngest to the elderly grandmother. He could tell that the children had made many of the ornaments. As each was hung, it was handled with care.

The tree in the consulate was tall and richly decorated by maids. When he asked to help, he had been told it wasn't something in his position that he should do.

Finally, the family opened a gift apiece. Small things, many handmade were exchanged. The oohs and ahhh were honest. Although he had received many gifts, his grandfather hadn't actually given him any. The servants had picked them out and wrapped them.

With five minutes left of Christmas Eve, he slowly turned and headed toward the consulate, head down and sadden. The unfairness of the world was bothering him. Someday he would work on correcting it.

Knowing his grandfather would be looking for him to instruct him on how to act at tomorrow's function, he hurried to the place that he called home this week.

"Someday," the young Napoleon whispered to himself." I will have a Christmas with the love of someone who really cares."

….

A 10-year-old boy ran through the streets. Clothed in rags, his blond hair dirty, he held on to his precious package tightly. Knowing that the younger children that he was keeping safe would be waiting for him, he ran faster into the Ukrainian night.

Crashing into an older man, an angry German voice yelled. "Where are you going?"

Looking down at the small oranges that had spilled, he felt the tears begin to form in his eyes. The others were waiting for him and hoping for something from Did Moro (Father Frost in Ukraine). He had taken the oranges from the Germans, although he knew the penalty for stealing food was death.

"What do we have here?" The man said picking up one orange while holding on to the struggling child with the other hand.

"I wonder where this came from," he said looking at the child. The man could tell the boy was one of the orphans giving the army a difficult time by stealing from their kitchens.

The boy stopped struggling and looked at fruit before giving the man an icy glare.

"I was hungry," the boy said defiantly.

"And you were going to eat," the man counted the scattered fruit. "Twenty oranges all by yourself?"

Knowing he had to protect the others, he lied. "Da."

The man smiled holding up the orange. "You know what they would do to you for stealing this?"

"Da."

"Well, maybe if you told me where the others are we could make a deal." The man pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket offering it to the boy.

When was the last time he had anything other than what he picked from the garbage. The chocolate looked so sweet. Then he thought of those waiting for him.

"Nyet. I do not know of others." The boy said sticking out his chin in defiance.

"I did not think you did. Here," the man handed the bag back to the boy after picking up the dropped fruit. "Tell the others you do not know about, I said Merry Christmas."

The boy ran until he could no longer see the man. Before long he entered a burned out building where the others hid. He handed each child an orange who took it as if it was gold. He took his own and went to sit in a corner thinking over what had happened. The man had not turned him in, this he did not understand. But he smiled at the man's kindness.

With five minutes left of Christmas Eve, he went to his place the bag on the floor but it fell. A chocolate bar dropping out of it with a small note catching his attention:

To a young man who is brave beyond his years. Always protect the innocent, Did Moro.

The small boy promised silently to Did Moro that he would do just that.

"Someday," the young Illya whispered to himself." I will have a Christmas with the love of someone who really cares."

…

The 8-year-girl strawberry blonde was tired from running. The Germans had almost caught her stealing food this time. She had lost her coat when the sergeant had grabbed her. It was paper thin and torn, but it was all she had. Now she was not only hungry but also cold.

She heard noises and hid in the corner of a broken down building. As the noises became voices she shivered, whether from the cold or from fear she wasn't sure. She wanted her parents, grandmother and older brother, but she knew she would never see them again. The Germans had killed each one, and she was alone in the world.

"I found her," an older woman called out looking down on the trembling girl. "Come out child, I will not hurt you."

The woman offered her a hand, but the child pushed further back. She had been betrayed before by kind voices.

A younger woman came into view. "Oh mother, she frightened. Child we will not hurt you. Are you hungry?" She held out a muffin to the girl.

The smell made the child's stomach cramp in hunger, but memories of others who had used food to trap her filled her mind. "Nyet, I am not hungry." She managed to lie before tears betrayed her.

"Alexandra hand me the coat," the older woman said to the younger woman.

"Here mother," Alexandra said handing her a worn but warm looking coat.

"This child is for you. I saw what the German did to you. Please take it and the muffin. We really would like to help you. It is Christmas Eve you know."

Christmas, the child hadn't thought of the day in two years, since the death of her family. No day meant anything other than another to survive.

The women placed the coat, muffin and a warm container of Borsch in front of her then moved back to give her space to run if she wanted to.

Crawling slowly toward the offering, the child pulled them into the corner. She slipped on the coat then went to take a large drink of the soup when the woman called out. "Stop!"

Fear widened the child's eyes. "I am sorry little one; I didn't mean to scare you. That is very hot, sip it carefully."

The child did as directed enjoying a taste that reminded her of her grandmother's. The muffin had sour cream something only the very rich had. This meant the women had money, and that frightened the child. She heard of rich people stealing children to make them their slaves.

Angry German voices could be heard outside the building. "The child came this way, I saw her. That brat is not getting away from me this time."

"Hide child," the older woman said. Quickly standing, she and her daughter headed toward the outside wall.

"Halt," one guard yelled.

The women stopped and looked at him.

"Did you see a dirty reddish blonde girl come this way?"

"Nyet," said the two.

"Why do you want her? What has she done wrong except being a child?" The mother challenged.

"Get out of my way, old woman. We will search this place." He said as he pushed her down.

"My mother told you that we saw no child."

The sergeant turned back toward the women, angry that another Ukrainian challenged his authority and shot them.

At the sound of gunfire, the child ran leaving her hiding place. She scurried until she reached a church then stuck into it.

Staying in the shadows, she approached the Virgin Mary's alter. With five minutes left of Christmas Eve, she knelt down praying for the dead women as her grandmother had taught her. They had given their lives for her. Slowing she touched the warm coat and offered a silent prayer. After finishing, she walked away making a vow that someday she would help others in need.

"Someday," the young Josephina whispered to herself." I will have a Christmas with the love of someone who really cares."


	2. Christmas Present 1967

thanks to my beta for checking this over.

Napoleon, Illya and Jo sat around the decorated Christmas tree in Napoleon's apartment on Christmas Eve. They each had returned from an individual assignment the evening before, and agreed to meet early in the morning to find a tree.

The day had been full as Napoleon had insisted on a fresh just chopped one and Illya agreed. Dressed in warm clothes and an axe over their shoulders, the men lead the way. Jo followed mumbling about men and their need to prove their masculinity.

Jo walked around while the men argued the possibility of each tree they encountered. The discussion erupted in a snowball fight with the sound of laughter echoing throughout the white wildness.

Ignoring the men, she looked at the surrounding trees, and suddenly in front of her was THE tree. Beautiful, tall and snow covered. It reminded her of the tree she remembered from that Christmas she was alone in Paris. She could almost imagine the Eiffel Tower in the background bringing back her desire that day to be with someone who cared enough to share it with her.

Calling the men over, she pointed, "This one."

The tone of her voice and the look in her eyes left no doubt, this was the one she needed to have. They could see it meant something special to her. Chopping it down, dragging it to the car, and carrying it up to the apartment, the men saw the joy it brought to the woman in their lives.

….

Later that evening, in the silence of the moment, each remembered a Christmas long ago when their wish was to spend Christmas with someone who truly loved them. Within this group, they had that wish fulfilled. However, each also thought of the promise they had made that night.

Napoleon looked at the tree remembering as a child he hadn't been allowed to help with its trimming. He had been told that it was improper for him to do such things due to his grandfather's position.

He remembered that year when he saw true love as the he watched through a window, the family with nothing but love celebrated the night as they had all decorated their tree. The meal they had shared was loving prepared and served. Yet just miles away the rich and powerful took no notice of what they ate or the decorations.

This year Illya and Jo had helped him trim his tree. As each ornament was added to the tree, Napoleon shared its special meaning and how each helped him remember his promise from many years ago to attempt to correct the unfairness of the world that had bothered him so.

A miniature Cuckoo clock ornament from Haselbach Germany reminded him of how they had stopped Thrush from destroying the small village by a mutant virus. The spider web was one Illya had found for him after they had helped scientists escape from a KGB prison camp on Sakhalin Island. Each ornament was unique, such as the craving from the Akuntsu, one of Brazil's indigenous tribe as a thank you for rescuing their people from a Thrush experimental cell.

As he spoke of each reminder, he knew he was attempting to keep his promise. The one thing that made this holiday truly special for Napoleon was that he was sharing it with his partner who was a brother to him and the woman he loved.

….

When they had returned from_Brooklyn_**'s** St Joseph's orphanage that they had accompany Illya to, Napoleon had thrown Illya an orange to fight his hunger until they were able to eat. Illya held it in his hand, bringing back memories of his promise to help the innocent whenever and wherever he could.

Although his job permitted him to do this regular, he needed to give more of himself willing. Illya had asked his partner and his sister to help him deliver gifts to the children of the home. He had searched for somewhere that would be in need this year and found that the children there wouldn't have gifts. He remembered those days when he himself had nothing.

Many times, the kindness of others helped him survive. He wished to return the kindness that had been offered to him more than once. Now each year when he was in New York on Christmas Eve, he tried to find a place where children were in need.

Each child was given a gift Santa had delivered it personally when he made a surprise visit to pass it out. Everyone laughed as even the blond agent was convinced to sit on Santa's lap-through he promise retribution to his partner and his sister. The smiles of the children were all the thanks he needed to understand how important his actions were.

Remembering the night he had stolen the oranges for the others he protected, he had been helped by a man he had never meet before. He had risked his life to give the children some type of Christmas and when bumping into a man, the oranges had fallen to the ground.

Instead of turning him in to the soldiers, to this day he couldn't explain why the man he met had protected him. He was a German, his enemy, yet he helped a child give joy to others. A lesson of friendship and caring that he carried with him daily.

As they left the orphanage, he knew that he had been granted his childhood wish. The one thing that made this holiday truly special for Illya was that he was sharing it with his partner who was a brother to him, and a sister he had thought he had lost.

…..

Jo had organized a winter coat collection at the New York office of UNCLE. Mr. Waverly had known of a place that offered free coats, hats, and gloves to the homeless and when asked what she could do to help others, suggested it to her. The agents had dropped off the collection on the way to the orphanage, and were saddened by the need of people in the city.

Now sitting in Napoleon's comfortable living room, she opened the gift he had given her. The beautiful black leather trench coat was warm and something he had seen her looking at in one of the stores. But as she held it, she thought of the gift of another coat many years before. Two women she didn't know had given their lives so a child would be warm and safe.

Perhaps that why working for UNCLE meant so much to her. She had vowed to help other in need when and if she could. Daily she was sent on assignments to do just that, but sadly for each person she helped, there was another she couldn't save and this bothered her.

How many have other agents had died protecting innocents who never knew the name of the person giving their life for them? How many times was an agent shot, tortured, or injured to protect someone they didn't know?

The one thing that made this holiday truly special for Jo is that she was sharing it with the two men who meant the world to her. Her brother who she had once more found and a man she loved promised to spend the rest of her life with.

….

Offering a toast to memories they each held, Napoleon called each from their thoughts. "At one time my wish was to have someone who truly loved me to share Christmas with. You two have fulfilled that wish. I now wish to extend that to "May we always have someone who loves us."

Sipping the drink, each repeated the wish for the years to come.


	3. Christmas Future 1970

Thanks to Uncle Charlie for checking this over.

As was their custom over the years, Illya and Napoleon were relaxing in Napoleon's apartment after their last assignment. They talked about things that they could have done better or differently. Jo had joined them and was looking at the recently added items on Napoleon's wall.

"So much of this is new, especially the pictures. Where are they from?" Jo asked.

The men joined her at the wall, "I found them in a box that my aunt had stored away. That's my mother and father," Napoleon said pointing at the first picture before moving to the next one. He pointed out his grandparents, followed by ones of Aunt Amy and his cousins. He also explained each plaque and item hung there. He shared stories about each one. As he neared the end of the wall, he noticed that the Kuryakins were quiet.

"I'm sorry I got carried away," Napoleon apologized, realizing that neither of his friends had memories from their life to share.

"That is all right. It is nice to have items from one's past," Jo assured him while Illya nodded in agreement.

The rest of the night Napoleon thought of how essential these memories were to him and how he wished his friends could have similar ones.

….

The next few days were busy at headquarter between paperwork and evaluations of the new batch of agents. Although constantly on the go, Napoleon didn't forget what had happened in his apartment. He knew that the brother and sister had been sadden and decided to see what he could do for them.

Later that day, he approached Waverly.

"Sir, I'd like to ask a favor." He explained his idea and waited for his boss to comment.

"This is highly unusual Mr. Solo, but I see you are set on this path. You have my permission as long as it doesn't interfere with the day by day operations of our organization."

Leaving Waverly's office, he visited several other departments and explained his idea. All were happy to help and set about working on the new assignment.

"Remember, it can't interfere with your normal assignments," Napoleon reminded them knowing that they'd do their best for him.

As the weeks went by, no news of success was forthcoming. After each assignment, he checked, but found that, although the departments were still working on it, each avenue of exploration was met with failure. Giving up the idea, Napoleon was disappointed, but knew no more time could be spent on his request.

….

Christmas was a week away and Napoleon was making out his gift list. He had decided on everyone but Jo and Illya. Their gifts needed to be special and he was working hard at deciding what gift would show how much he cared for each of them. A ringing phone disturbed his thoughts.

"Napoleon, come quickly," a clerk from the file room said excitedly. "We've had success with your request. What would you like us to do with the results?"

"I'll be down in a minute." He quickly slipped on his jacket and hurried to the department.

When he arrived there, he was met with excitement. "I thought we gave up on this," Napoleon said.

"When a new employee came over from Eastern Europe, she heard of what we were trying to do and she gave us a few ideas. Searching further, we were able to come up with what you requested."

She smiled and handed Napoleon the folder. "You'll need to hurry to have them available by Christmas."

Napoleon took the precious package and left heading immediately to complete his surprise.

As he was walking the halls to his office, Mr. Waverly passed him.

"I heard your request was fulfilled. Make sure I heard about the results."

…..

Christmas Eve and day at Aunt Amy's had become a staple when the agents were town and she did what she could to see her "adopted children" happy

"Napoleon and I decided to give the two of you a Ukrainian Christmas this year. I know that you usually celebrate it on January seventh, but hope you don't mind celebrating with us tonight. So we'll start with supper tonight if you have no objections."

"You did all this for us," Jo said looking at the layout on the table. She was deeply touched that Napoleon and his aunt had gone out of their way to make the Christmas so memorable.

"How did you know about this?" Illya also was surprised by the gesture.

"Actually my nephew did the research," Amy proudly explained.

"Well, really Mr. Waverly gave his permission and research did a lot of the legwork," Napoleon said.

Illya snickered, "I'm sure you made it worth the women's while."

"Keep that up and I'll see you get none of it," Napoleon threatened.

"The meal is traditionally a meatless twelve course meal because the people of the Ukraine fast to Christmas morning._ Kutia_ is the main dish and consist of cooked wheat and special syrup containing diluted honey, grated poppy seeds, raisins and sometimes walnuts. It is served with _kolach,_ a Christmas braided bread that is shared by all and dipped in honey. This is followed _borscht_ with _vushka_ a red beet soup with mushrooms filled dumplings, _kapusniak_ a sourkraut soup, _holubki_ a meatless stuffed cabbage, varenyky with various fillings several fish dishes, pickled herring, fresh mushroom sauce, pickled mushrooms, and baked beans with flax oil. The hot drink called _kompot _is a mixed fruit tea. For dessert, there is always an assortment of cookies, sheet cakes, torts."

"Leave it to my partner, to know all about food," Napoleon teased.

"My friend, there are some things that are in important and food is one of them," Illya stated starting on the _kutia_.

As each course was brought to the table, Illya spoke more about the specifics of the dish between bites, causing the others to laugh. The dinner lived up to everything the two Ukrainians remembered from their early childhood with their parents.

They all accompanied Napoleon's aunt to midnight mass after the meal and then headed back to her apartment and bed.

…..

The following morning the smells of fresh coffee and tea, dark bread, buckwheat blinis with jam, eggs, sausages, cold cuts, and cheese woke them continuing the Ukrainian theme

After breakfast, gifts were passed out and opened. Each tore into the packages like children making Amy laugh.

"My dear," Amy said to Jo. "I have something, but would like to wait awhile before giving it to you."

Confused as to why, Jo gave her a hug. "Aunt Amy, just these last two days are enough of a gift. You have given Illya and me a home once more, and we appreciate it."

"Napoleon," Amy nodded her head toward him.

Napoleon excused himself going into his Aunt's room. Soon he returned with two large packages and handed them to Jo and Illya.

"What is this? I thought we already exchanged gifts." Illya questioned holding his.

"Actually, those were the results of the research of many of the people of UNCLE."

Intrigued, the packages were open. Inside each was an identical picture.

Before them were replicas of a photo taken a few days before the ball in honor of their father's promotion to general.*** It was the official family photograph, taken but never seen by them due to the war. Papa, Mama, _babushka,_ Illya, Josephina, and the two younger children were all dressed in their best.

The pictures were accented with a satin silver elegant frame with the Kuryakin crest and name engraved on the bottom.

"How?" Illya asked while Jo could say nothing. Each gently touched the faces before them while memories of their past years came flooding back.

"I hope you like it. Waverly gave his approval and the departments have been working on it in their spare time. I'm sorry it's the only one research could find."

Aunt Amy handed Jo a small gift-wrapped in small gold box. Opening it, Jo found a picture locket. On one side was Jo, Illya, Napoleon, and Amy while on the other side was the miniature picture of the photo in front of them.

As they sat around, love in the air. Their toast of a few years before came back to them. "May we always have someone who loves us." They realized that they had many occasions of love in their lives, and each time it had come down family.

***(see: Sapphire Affair)


End file.
